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Monday, December 3, 2018

Some
say that if you just stick to the trail, your journey will be easier. However, not all paths in life are smooth
concrete with wide walkways free of debris and obstacles. Most trails - the
ones worth taking - are rugged and narrow. They get windy and dark - yes, a bit
scary.

The most meaningful paths are those we venture onto alone. But then
we have this fear - the further we walk, the closer to the end we get, the
scarier it becomes. That solitude, that absolute quietness that tells you
you're alone on this journey.And, for
some, for me, it can become too much to bear and even though our hearts want to
keep going, our minds become increasingly fearful of every rustle, every movement
out of the corner of our eyes, and every tree root that juts out along the
trail - as if warning us to turn around and retreat.

Take
this nature trail I visited this morning alone. The path started off bright and
wide, but the further I went, the darker and rougher the terrain became. Every
buzz, splash, and sway of the branches made my pulse go faster. And, while I
desperately wanted to see where this path led me, I became frozen with fear and
did something I said I wouldn't do - I turned back. I was paralyzed by the
"what ifs." What if I fall and can't walk back? What if I get bitten
by a poisonous snake? What if I'm not actually alone in these woods?

The
truth is I was probably perfectly safe - after all, I was still on a designated trail, it just wasn't the one I was used to. I wanted to keep going and see where this path led me. Yet,
for whatever reason, I couldn't do it. I couldn't take one step further. The
whole way back I had mixed feelings of both relief and regret. It seems that
all my decisions lately are met with these conflicting emotions.

After
returning to the "safety" of the wide-open picnic area where the
trail began, I stared back at the path I just came from - fittingly called the
Eagle Trail - and I longed to have the courage to go back down it and see where
it took me. Instead, I found an alternative trail called Hog Hammock - one with
a less rough terrain, one where the tree canopy didn't quite shade
the sun as much. One that wasn't so deserted - where the only thing I had to
trip over was my own two feet. Sure, it proved to have its own challenges. The
heat (from lack of shade) and mosquitoes were unbearable. Plus, the hike itself
didn't take much effort or concentration which in turn dulled my other senses
to the point where it became mundane.

While walking along the Hog Hammock Trail, I came to a fork in the path and I had to choose between staying on the main path or veering off. I stuck to the main path despite the fact that I could see in the distance the other way had the most beautiful lush, green grass.

I've been trained to not take risks.

However,
in the end, when I returned to my car, I was able to look back on the adventure
and truly say it was enjoyable and safe and relaxing. But, I wouldn't be honest
if I didn't say that what I also noticed was that my eyes kept looking back down
Eagle Trail - drawn to it and my heart was disappointed.

Maybe
someday I'll return to this park, and I'll brave Eagle Trail on my own. Or, maybe my destiny is to always take Hog Hammock Trail - the
friendlier, safer trail. Yes, maybe that's what I was meant to do.

Or
maybe not........

The
truth is we all have multiple paths to choose from. There will always be roads
we travel down and ones, for a variety of reasons, we don't. But in
the end, we are the ones who must be satisfied with our choices. We must embrace
every step, every turn, and every dark corner. Otherwise, none of it will have
been worth it.

This is
not to say that there were no concerns on this easier trail, but they weren't
as overpowering. The truth is I wasn't ready to tackle Eagle Trail on my own
just yet.

There's a saying that more often people do not regret things they did; they regret the things they didn't do. No one
wants to look back at their life and conclude they took the wrong path. The deeper issue is to choose your path for the right reasons, not out of fear or insecurity, but because you simply feel it is the best trail for you. It is also important to know that at any time, detours can be explored, and complete changes in course may be plotted. Acceptance of these possibilities will lead to a more peaceful life.

********************************

This post was written March 2015 after a hike in one of my favorite, local wilderness areas. I have since returned to Eagle Trail and have completed it on my own.

Nikki is a freelance writer and editor who focuses on issues facing parents and women. She is also a film and book critic and active blogger. Her professional background spans several fields including non-profit work, law, event management/public relations, and elementary education. She holds a B.A. in English Literature. She resides in South Florida with her loved ones. Read Nikki's blog at http://www.lavenderinspiration.com/.